This was my weekend to be a mom rather than an athlete. Often the pendulum swings more to MY stuff, so despite the fact that I did a little mental foot stomping and pouting, it was nice to have a weekend where I wasn’t feeling mommy guilt. As I was reminded more than once by my Facebook friends who’ve been there and know it all too well, your kids are only young for a short time and before I know it they’ll be grown up and out of the house living their own lives.
I rode 20 miles on Thursday, then on Friday I watched N and his team kick butt in their pool at a volleyball tournament and then came home to finish baking the cookies I’d promised to send for my friend Bob’s race. Yeah, I’m sure they didn’t really need dessert, but it was killing me to miss it, and at least this way I felt like I was a part of things. Un/Fortunately, he had such an amazing turnout (200ish registered racers) that the 13+ dozen cookies I baked didn’t even work out to one per racer…and the late finishers arrived to find themselves cookie-less.
I had planned to skip the second day of the tournament so I could get in a big long ride before dropping off the cookies and cleaning and cooking for Sunday’s festivities, but I just couldn’t do it. I really do love being at the volleyball games, and N had a good chance of making the all-tournament team…didn’t want to miss that.
The hours spent waiting between matches killed me a little since I’d hoped to get home early enough to ride for an hour or two (only a drop in my gigantic, empty Dirty Kanza bucket, but one more drop than I was starting with), but I stayed productive and assembled and addressed graduation announcements (and I’m proud/relieved to report that the boy will, indeed, graduate).
|Soooo glad I don’t have to white-out the date on the inside!!|
When the tournament was finally over (they came in fourth with two disappointing back-to-back losses, but he did, indeed, make the all-tournament team), I hightailed it to St. Louis to drop off cookies with my lucky friend Dave, who because his kids are little and not little weekend-sucks like mine, was racing at Cedar Cross the next day. Since I didn’t get home until 4ish, there was no way I was getting away with a bike ride. There was too much cleaning to do, plus we had to go to my niece’s 14th birthday party.
Sunday morning I got up at 7 and rode another 18 miles before showering and making the 1.5 hour round trip to pick up N, who’d gone to an out-of-town prom and stayed at his girlfriend’s house at the invitation and under the supervision of her parents. We got home and spent the rest of the morning cleaning for J’s First Communion party. And then of course the event, itself, where he acquitted himself well despite the fact that we made a wrong turn after the altar (I’m so screwed at Dirty Kanza…I’m going to end up in the wrong state, I just know it).
|With my handsome boy|
We had a bunch of food for the family coming over after First Communion, and everyone who came had plenty to eat because one of the many balls I dropped this week was the “inviting my side of the family” ball. A hasty facebook invitation (high class) the night before/morning of garnered us a couple extra relatives who were kind enough to overlook my oversight and come spend the afternoon with us. Having spent my week going to volleyball games and baking race cookies and cleaning and registering for races I have no hope of ever finishing, I didn’t manage to make dessert for my own party, but my momma came to my rescue and made up a big tray of the best cookies in the world.
|My chocolate chip cookies are at least as good as hers, but nothing compares to mom’s sugar cookies!|
Unfortunately, we had an early end to the day because Jeff’s grandma is in the hospital and took a bad turn. She’s 91 and an amazing lady. She was one of the first people to welcome me to the family and is just such a neat, wonderful, positive person. I really love her and would appreciate it if you kept her in your prayers.